poet and poetess…

why don’t you shack up with Diane Wajonowsky?
she screamed.
just think of it!    the great Poet and the Great
Poetess!
think of it!   what a fucking pair!
the whole world would go crazy!

don’t we have enough crazy people now?
I asked.
I want you I don’t want Diane Wojonowsky.

then why don’t you go to the racetrack?
why don’t you get so tired you can’t fuck me
tonight? she screamed.

let’s both go to the racetrack together, I said,
there’s a good card today.

i don’t want to go to the racetrack! she screamed.
I want to go dancing!   I want to meet people!

there’ll be 25,000 people out there, baby, I said,
and with one thing on their minds.

horses!   she screamed.   horseshit!

you never should have mentioned the track, I said,
you put it in my mind.   now I’ve got to go.

if you go to the track, she screamed, I won’t be here
when you get back!

I walked out the door and down the steps and hollered
back, it’s not the same as going to bed with another
woman!

oh yes it is!   she screamed.   it’s the same thing, it’s
the same damned thing!

that’s what you say about my drinking! I screamed back.

and that’s true too!   she screamed.   you’re full of two
things:   booze and horseshit!

she slammed the door so hard that a pane of glass fell
out.

I got into my car and drove off
not feeling good, thinking, why does this thing keep
happening?   but not Diane Wajonowsky.   25,000 people
were bad enough.

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